Ok, my previous post got me feelin’ nostalgic, so I thought I’d share something I came across recently when looking for an old picture album. It reinforced in me the notion that I was meant for a fitness career.
When I was in 7th grade, I badly dislocated my knee while working the “milk bottle toss” game at my dad’s company picnic: I didn’t want to turn my back and butt-face the crowd, so I twisted, feet in place, to pick up the balls and bottles. UGHH! I watched my knee slide all the way over to the side of my leg, and I went down hard.
Back then, before anyone knew enough, the treatment for this injury was a full-length cast, thigh to ankle, for 6 weeks!
When the cast came off, I was horrified! My leg looked deformed, atrophied and shriveled, no muscle mass at all. I ran track and played softball and loved physical activities of all kinds, so my weak beanpole of a leg spurred me to launch headlong into a “whole-body” regimen, which included exercising a LOT, carefully tracking everything I ate, and dutifully laying out my daily routine on now-faded notebook paper (see sample), which I kept in a three-ring binder, recently unearthed.
Seeing this stuff this again reminds me not just that I was a bit of a fitness nut, but also that creating a daily schedule is a worthwhile practice—one that I believe can uniquely help keep you on track with your fitness goals. My triathlon coach did this for me over the period of a year, and it motivated me on a daily basis—somehow just having it written down inspired me to check it off, so to speak. It also kept me healthy and off the “injured list.”
So once I get the needed training, I plan to make schedules for my clients, not to tell them when to “get up,” have “lunch,” or “play outside,” but to provide daily exercises and supporting fitness and nutrition guidance to reach their specific goals and keep from getting hurt.
I cannot WAIT for my first training—a certified personal trainer workshop Nov. 9-11, in Williamsburg, VA, sponsored by the American College of Sports Medicine. Meanwhile, here’s some more notebook-pages of advice from little me. – keep moving, Jen Katt